


Promesse.

by demonsonthemoon



Series: Cacharel Verse [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Bigender Character, Other, coming out scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 14:57:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3072275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonsonthemoon/pseuds/demonsonthemoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things are easy, some aren’t, and sometimes it’s hard to judge the risk. Jehan and Grantaire’s first meeting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promesse.

**Author's Note:**

> Set approximately 4 years before "Amor Amor".

Jehan didn’t hate being alone per se. Solitude could be appreciated. When it involved a book, some tea or at least something to write on. Or to sit on.  
Being alone with a half-finished sandwich while standing up because it had just rained and every surface available was thus dirty, though, was not something Jehan enjoyed. Not at all. Not ever. And particularly not today.  
Nobody could blame her for eating her sandwich in a very angry manner. She had the right to be angry.

"What’s happening?" came a sudden voice behind her.  
She turned around with a start, to see someone, probably a year or two older than her, sitting atop a litter bin. The stranger had dark, curly hair and was wearing an old pair of jeans, torn at one knee, paired with a sweater.

"Sorry?" she asked.  
"You’re here. You’re not usually here. What’s happening?"  
Jehan eyed the stranger cautiously before shrugging. She didn’t know this person, but her day couldn’t really get any worse. “I’m wearing a skirt.”  
"Sorry?"  
She smiled, noticing the parallel slowly making its way between her and the stranger.  
"I don’t usually come here. I’m here right now. Because I’m wearing a skirt."  
"Yes," the stranger said with a frown. "I can see that. A pretty cute one might I add, but I don’t see how it relates to you spending lunchtime in this lonely place of wet isolation."

Not really wanting to explain herself, Jehan subtly tried to change the subject. “Lonely place of isolation is kind of redundant, is it not?”  
The stranger made of an exaggerated gesture of hands, which nearly nearly resulted in a fall from the litter bin.  
"Who are you, the English police?"  
"Maybe." Jehan retorted quickly, trying to give off a mysterious vibe. Considering her pastel pink skirt and yellow jacket, it wasn’t really easy. "Maybe I’m an undercover agent who came here because of an anonymous tip telling me that there was someone mangling our language in the area."  
"Oh. If it’s just that, I can show you a hundred more people to arrest," the stranger replied, pointing towards the school.  
Jehan laughed.  
"I’m Grantaire, by the way," said the stranger, extending a hand.  
"I’m Jehan," she replied, extending her own right hand before noticing the rest of her sandwich still in it and putting it in her mouth. They shaked hands as Grantaire smiled.  
The bell rang behind them. They both kept smiling anyway.

 

They’d had to wait three days to see each other again, since their first meeting had fallen on a Friday. Three days that Jehan spent in a guilty kind of excitment.  
And then Monday came, and when Jehan escaped his classes at lunchtime, it was to see Grantare waiting, leaning against the wall that marked the school’s entrance.

"Hey, little duck!" The other boy greeted him. Jehan frowned at the nickname, but Grantaire just shrugged. "You were wearing a yellow jacket, and it had just rained."  
"I did tell you my name, right?" Jehan replied.  
"Yes, you did." Grantaire said unapologetically. "Oh. Not wearing any cute skirts today."  
Jehan looked down at his pair of dark jeans, sneakers and light blue shirt. “Erm… about that…” He started shifting from foot to foot.  
"Hey!" Grantaire interrupted with a placating gesture. "I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, don’t worry."  
"No, no!" Jehan quickly replied. "It’s just…" He bit his lip. Sink or swim, right? “I wanted to talk to you about that.”  
Grantaire smiled, trying to make him comfortable, which Jehan appreciated.  
"I don’t… huh… I don’t really stick to hum… female or male clothing? I don’t really stick to female or male, period? I mean, as my gender? It’s huh… It’s kind of hard to explain."  
"You mean… You don’t consider yourself either a boy or a girl? Like… a mix of the two?"  
Jehan bit his lip again. Grantaire was trying to understand. This was good. He wouldn’t have to use the plan B which consisted of running away and never seeing the man again.  
"Kind of, but not really. I… switch? Between male and female? I go from one to the other? But still as separate genders."  
Grantaire nodded slowly. And Jehan tried to smile, hopeful. “So… do I say he or she? Or something else?”  
”He. Today would be he. I would have said she the day we first met.”  
"Okay."  
And that was that. Grantaire picked up a water bottle and a sandwich from his bag, while Jehan stood next to him, unbelieving. It had been easy. At least, it had been easier than he would have thought.  
"You’re the first one I told that to."  
Grantaire turned his head and swallowed. “I’m honored.”  
"I bought that skirt in secret and only wore it on Friday because my mom wasn’t home."  
"You only own one skirt?" Jehan nodded, shrugging slightly. "That won’t do. We have to go shopping, little duck."  
"Okay" Jehan agreed. He wanted to believe, wanted to be able to think that it was just that simple.

Spoiler Alert: Sometimes it wasn’t.


End file.
